


Off the Rails

by orphan_account



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Adopted Bennet Family, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Gen, Other, Racebending, Sibling Bonding, Slow Burn, diversity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26621779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "I hate you.""Tell me something I don't know."What started on a train swelled in an elevator and before long, escalated into something neither Liz nor Fitzwilliam could control.Based on Jane Austen's characters from Pride and Prejudice.
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, Jane Bennet/Charles Bingley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

Lizette barreled down the steps, narrowly avoiding slipping as she reached the door.

She blinked, watching as droplets pattered against her brown skin. Tugging on her coat in a haste, she wished she could glare at the clouds through the sheet of rain pouring down on her. As it was, the sidewalk in front of her was difficult enough to see. She didn't dare stop though. Forging ahead, she imagined herself some brave warrior racing to face a mighty beast.

The description could certainly be an accurate depiction of her mother.

This is for Jane's sake, Liz reminder herself as the cold wetness seeped into her socks.

The things one does for family.

Drenching minutes later, in which she felt more like a soppy fish than a heroic warrior, she finally climbed into the train. She collapsed into a seat, hugging her bag to her chest. She had made it. She had nearly killed herself from the stress of the exam, slipping and cracking her head open, or getting pneumonia, but she had made it. A grin grew on her face as she thought of the sight of her professor's face when she had finished the exam an hour earlier than anyone else. Sure, she might have skimmed the passing percentage of the exam, but it didn't matter. Not right now anyway. Like the responsible adult she was, she prioritized that her near-failing grades were not important at the moment. The coming meltdown about that situation would have to happen later.

Right now she had to prepare to face a dragon.

A clearing of a throat brought her attention to her side. A guy stood shifting on his feet, a grey box in his left hand and suitcase at his side. Lizette's eyes did a quick scan. A tall figure, light skin, dark coat, brown hair that looked positively fluffy despite the rain droplets the clung in spots, not to mention that jaw-

Lizette was very aware of her wayward curls that were no doubt sprung every which way due to the rain.

The cute guy continued to stand, a small furrow between his brows.

"Is there something wrong?" She prompted.

"That's my seat."

"Oh!" She jumped up to give him space to get by. Her luck seemed to be improving. Sitting next to a cute guy would provide just the distraction she needed to deal with her family. He made no move toward the seat. "I could take the window seat if that's easier-"

"Actually those are both my seats."

Lizette frowned. There was no one with him.

"Is there-are you waiting for someone?"

"No."

No?

"Well, I'm sorry but this is my seat." She pulled out her ticket from her pocket. "See? 15E."

He leaned forward slightly to read the ticket, balancing the box in the crook of his arm he pulled out his own tickets from his coat pocket. _Wow, he smelled good._

Her brows furrowed down as she read his tickets. _15E_ and _16E._

"They must have sold two tickets for the same seat by accident."

"Or not." He nodded to her stub. "Your ticket is set for tomorrow."

"What?" She frowned up at him, confused. 

He blinked. "Your ticket," she could hear irritation leaking into his voice now, "You bought a ticket for _tomorrow's_ train."

Her eyes skimmed her ticket, feeling her gut twist at the date. How could she be so stupid? She had purchased the ticket in a hurry last night, and sure it was after midnight but she didn't think she could have made such a foolish mistake. The date was right there though, plain as day on the stub.

"Now, if you'd please move-"

Panic seeped into her. The train was nearly full. She could just see the conductor going through the rows, checking the tickets. "Wait. You said you bought two tickets, right?" She was desperate. Calling a cab would cost her more time, not to mention the money it would cost for the hours she would be stuck in traffic, she was already here, so close. "Could I just sit in one of the seats? I could even pay for it. I really can't be late. I have this family thing and my mother-"

"You're lack of responsibility is not my problem." He nodded his head to the side, as though dismissing her. "I'm sorry. I just, I won't give up my seat."

The word choice was what struck her. _Won't._ It wasn't that he couldn't, it was that he simply didn't _want_ to. 

"Are you kidding me?" She ran a hand through her hair, laughing incredulously. What was with this guy? What kind of person ordered two seats for just themself? "I won't bug you at all-I swear. Is it the money? Here," she was scrambling, digging through her bag for her wallet, though her chest ached at the thought of what two train tickets would do for her bank account.

"Stop it," he hissed, his voice edging towards flat out frustration. "Just, please _stop_."

Her hand froze in her bag. She stared in bewilderment as the man anxiously glanced around the train. What was his deal? No one was paying the two of them any attention. Lizette paused, for the first time taking notice of the expensive watch on his wrist, then the fine stitching of his coat, and then his name brand luggage.

"What, are you too good for petty cash?" What a snob. He probably felt he was too good to sit with some broke uni student. He was probably enrolled at Oxford or Cambridge, the pompous prat.

"What?" His eyes snapped back to her. "Why would say that?"

Her eyes roamed over his attire from head to toe, pointedly. She felt her lips edge upward in a smirk. "What, was first class out of seats? Or did Daddy recently cut off your funds so now you have to suffer through third class like the rest of us?"

The stranger's face visibly hardened, his posture seemed to stiffen and his knuckles turned white as he gripped the box. "I will not tolerate this kind of behavior. That is _my_ seat and I will have you forcibly removed-"

"Bloody hell, you're just _full_ of it, aren't you?" Somewhere deep inside Lizette, a small voice whispered fervently for her to reign it in, to keep her temper under control. Like usual, she ignored it and let it be drowned out by the voices belligerently shouting at her to _Get him! Get him!_

His face was so comically astounded, she suddenly wished she could snap a picture of it to hang on her wall. She'd title it: _"_ _Pompous Jerk Gets What H_ _e Had Coming"_ or perhaps _"T_ _he Face of True Entitlement Revealed!"_

_"I'm_ full of it!" He sputtered. "You're the one trying to take my seat!"

"At least I only want _one_. I'm not a selfish pig who needs to hog two seats!" Their voices had risen somewhat in the heat of the argument and Liz was only vaguely aware of other passengers' stares. "What do you need the other chair for? To seat your ego? You obviously can't keep it reigned in-"

"Okay, that's it! You're moving right now or else-"

"Excuse me!" 

Lizette's attention snapped to the conductor who seemed to appear out of nowhere. 

"Is there a problem?"

"Yes," the stranger jumped in before Liz could. "This lady is trying to steal my seat-"

"Oh, really?" Her voice oozed with sarcasm. "You're gonna label me a chair thief and throw me under the bus like that?"

"No, I'm throwing you under the train." He snapped back, and the comeback momentarily caught her by surprise. "And I think I have every right to be upset right now-"

"Of _course_ you do, because your two-seated luxury chair set is being threatened-oh the horror!" She draped a hand dramatically over her forehead.

His face scrunched up in disbelief. "Where do you get off insulting me like this?"

"I'm supposed to get off at Merrington you dwat-!"

* * *

She got off the train, not at Merrington but with dignity. Or, at least as much dignity as one could have while being escorted by the elbow of a train conductor. Apparently once a passenger shouts that they're going to throw another passenger under a train it counts as an official threat. So the conductor decided to throw both of them off the train, which seemed a little contradictory to Liz.

Her eyes watched the train leave. She wouldn't be surprised if the rain hitting her immediately evaporated into steam, she was fuming so. 

A sigh from beside her. 

"Look," she felt him turn toward her but didn't bother to move. "I'm sorry, alright? Let me call a cab for you and I'll pay the fare."

She turned, slowly towards him. His stupidly beautiful face dripped with rain. 

Her lips spread into a thin smile. "Sorry, but money can't fix everything for you."

* * *

"Lizette!" 

She stood dripping water on the welcome mat of her childhood home, an hour and twenty-four minutes late. Molly shook her head at the sight of her sister, red curls flinging around her shoulders. 

"What happened to you?" Her voice carried a laugh in it as she helped Liz set her pack aside and peel her coat off. 

"It _is_ raining outside, or have you bothered to notice?" Liz teased. Molly did have a tendency to get lost in her own world at times.

"I knew about the rain, but you look like you got dunked in a swimming pool."

Laughter bubbled up from the dining room.

Her eyes caught Molly's gaze. "How's it going in there?"

"Oh you know," Molly shrugged, casting a glance to the room when their mother's hiccuped laughter rose. "Mum's only mentioned marriage about three times. She's really pacing herself this time."

Liz sighed, running a hand through her hair. She caught her reflection in the mirror hung on the wall. She was a mess, her black long sleeve and jeans were damp in places but thankfully the coat took the brunt of the storm. Her hair on the other hand...the curls were wilder than usual, with pieces sticking up in weird places. Oh, well. She didn't have time. She toed off her squeaky sneakers by the mat.

"Come on," Molly tugged her along. "You best get in there to help Jane."

"When'd your hair get so long?" She frowned, but reluctantly followed, facing the inevitable with only a slight hesitation.

Molly didn't bother to answer as they had reached the kitchen, and with a flourish, revealed Lizette to the group.

"Lizette! Where have you been?" Her mother's voice carried across the crowded table to her with no difficulty. 

It hit her all at once. She had missed her family. They were quite a motley crew, the vastly different appearances of each of them caused great confusion for people upon first introductions but those were quickly cleared away as the explanation came: they were an adopted family.

It was her mother's dream to have a big family, and after meeting Oscar Bennet who grew up as an only child, it seemed to her as though fate aligned them together. The pair got along swell. They were a perfect balance. Calla drew Oscar out of his shell at times, while Oscar had the unique ability to reign Calla in when needed. Though Oscar was partially deaf, Calla felt that no one had ever listened to her as much as he did. Once they were married, they tried many times but after many heartbreaking miscarriages, Calla realized the only way to have a big family was through adoption. Jane and Liz were the first two. Though they were not related through blood, the girls were in the same foster home for a few years before Calla and Oscar met Jane and fell in love with the blue-eyed, blonde eleven-year-old. Seeing how the girls were inseparable, they decided to adopt them both. The twins, Kit and Ellie, were adopted three years later at age seven. Molly was the last to join the family, and being a fourteen-year-old girl with a previously troubled family life made her somewhat reclused against the Bennets at first. The past four years have truly helped them bond though, she and Oscar particularly formed a special connection.

She gave a meek wave to the group as the eyes hit her. Her mother sat at the head of the long rectangle table, looking at her with a look of _What did you get yourself into this time?_ Oscar sat beside her, warm face lighting up as he saw Liz. On the other side of her mum was Jane, and other than seeming slightly tense, she seemed her usual cheery self. Charlie smiled good-naturedly at Liz from his spot next to her sister. Kit leaned back against his chair, amused, while Ellie looked almost offended by her appearance. 

"I'm so sorry," Lizette started, fluidly remembering to sign while she spoke. "There was a train fiasco and," she made an exasperated expression, shaking her head, "You don't want to know." She turned to Charlie, smiling apologetically. "Hi, Charlie. How are you?" 

"I'm great," His hands moved eagerly. "It's good to see you, Liz." He stood up, enveloping her in a big hug. 

Liz noticed the sparkle in Jane's eyes over Charlie's shoulder. 

"I'm ashamed you're my daughter sometimes Liz." Her Mum's head shook in only slight reproach. The shine in her eyes belied the truth that Mrs. Bennet was by far too happy this evening to be troubled by her daughter's late arrival. "It's no wonder you were the adopted child."

"They were _all_ adopted." Oscar pointed out, always quick to correct his wife in that teasing way of his.

"Oh, you know what I mean," Calla waved her husband off with her hands. "Anyways, Charlie. Tell me more about your parents. You said your mother moved from Japan when she was eight, yes?"

As she sat down at the table beside Kit, Liz piled her plate high with potatoes, creamy chicken, corn, and two bread rolls. Her mother had gone all out for tonight.

She caught Jane's gaze, worry clouding over her for a second. What if her mother had said something that had bothered or offended Charlies only he was too polite to leave? What if Ellie had gushed about Jorge Wickham endlessly? Or if Kit had made one of his snarky comments? Her eyes searched through Jane's expression, determined to pick out which one (or if multiple) of these situations occurred. As their gazes met though, Jane's features melted into a grin, pale cheeks tinted slightly with rouge. 

Liz felt her shoulders slump, her lips curl up into a shared smile with her sister. Sure, her family was nuts but if anyone could have survived dinner with all of them at once, it would be Charlie Bingley. She couldn't help but notice how _well_ Charlie fit into their quirky family. He was mute, and each Bennet communicated near fluently through sign language due to their father's partial deafness but that wasn't what Liz was thinking about. It was in his kind mannerisms, the way he grinned at Jane even when she looked away, and how he warded off her mother's inquiring 'subtle' mentions of marriage with tact and politeness. Lizette hadn't known that was possible.

Maybe it wasn't such a disaster after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy is having a really bad day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is complete ayyee

Fitzwilliam was a mess.

His knee wouldn't stop bouncing. He stared at his phone screen, the last messages he had exchanged with Charlie glared back at him. His fingers tapped rapidly.

FITZ: Hey. Know ur busy rn with dinner at jane's parents and u prob won't see this till late but just thought id let u know I'm omw to Durham

FITZ: also I may or may not have completely screwed up my life and the lives of a hundred others

FITZ: but it's cool im fine

It was so not cool and he was so not fine. 

A drop of rain pattered on the grey box in his lap. He tilted the umbrella forward. His fingers paused for a second.

FITZ: I really need to talk. just call me or something when u get the chance. say hi to jane for me

He tucked his phone back in the pocket of his coat.

His mind flashed back to his aunt's face. Red cheeks flushed in embarrassment, that ridiculous astonished look on her face. She had it coming, didn't she? Or was his decision merely a result of the torrent of emotions inside him? It was reckless what he had done. Foolish, careless, impulsive-

_What would his father think?_

Fitz stared at the box on his lap. It was incredible, really, how one's life-their bones, blood, tears, thoughts, feelings- could be diminished to ashes in a box. 

He'd probably have laughed, his face would have lit up in that easy way of his. His grey hair was often the only giveaway that he wasn't still twenty-five. The case was especially true when he laughed. His mouth would stretch unbelievably wide, so far back that one could often spot his back molars. He would have pointed and guffawed right in Aunt Catherine's face while she fumed. He would have slapped Fitz on the back as she stormed off, telling him that _that_ was a twist he hadn't seen coming.

Another drop pattered on the lid of the box but this time it wasn't from the rain.

A loud rumbling tore his gaze up. The train screeched to a halt. Lumps of people moved to and from the train, lugging suitcases, kids, and backpacks. 

Fitz waited minutes for the crowd to lull, for the initial hurry and bustle of the train's arrival to dissipate, for his eyes to dry before he stood from the bench. Tucking the umbrella away and huddling the box under his coat while lugging his case in the other hand, he hastily boarded. As he stepped inside the blast of warm air made aware of how cold he actually was. Meaningless chatter filled his ears as people shuffled around to their seats. 

He found the space stifling. He kept his gaze down, eyes searching the numbers of seats before landing on his corresponding tickets.

Someone was seated in his section. His fingers itched against his palms. Tapping against the box, Fitz cast a longing glance to the door. He could leave and wait for the next train. But who knew how long that would take? Outside in this weather, with his father's ashes in his lap? Standing here in the middle of the aisle like this, people were already peering his way. One foot in front of the other, until he stood by his seats. 

_Oh blimey!_

It was a lady. An attractive lady. She clutched a bag to her chest and her eyes were closed. Was she sleeping?

His throat felt thick. He cleared it, causing her eyes to open and turn to him. 

He was struck with the full focus of her gaze. Her wide eyes peered up at him curiously. Her dark hair erupted in curls around her face. Now he was standing, staring, like the bloke he was. 

"Is there something wrong?" 

Nope. Nothing was wrong. He was simply standing in a cramped train car, holding his father's ashes in a box that could be mistaken for carrying shoes, not to mention that he had essentially fired his aunt and severed all ties with her company, and was now on his way to see his sister so they could together toss his father's remains into the ocean. Everything was dandy.

"That's my seat." Okay. Better than spilling his guts.

"Oh!" The young lady jumped from her seat, before she stood, pressing the back of her legs against the front of the chair to make room for him to get by.

His feet wouldn't budge. He only needed one seat. It would be fine. He could sit down, act civil, act _normal_ for this one train ride before resuming with the complete chaos of his life, right? He still wouldn't move. His chest felt tight. More and more people were in the car, their chatter filling the air, crowding out his sense of reason.

"I could take the window seat if that's easier-"

"Actually, those are both my seats." Just a minute, a moment. She would move, he would sit, and then he would calm down before he had a full-blown panic attack.

"Is there-are you waiting for someone?"

"No." His hand held the box closer.

"Well, I'm sorry but this is my seat." 

Impatience brewed inside him as she fished out her ticket from her pocket.

"See? 15E," she tilted the stub for him to see.

Just a moment, he'd show her his tickets and she'd be on her way. 

He leaned over to read her ticket as she looked to his. Immediately, his eyes latched onto the date printed on hers.

"They must have sold two tickets for the seat by accident." Her soft voice held only curiosity. 

"Or not," he gestured towards the date on her slip, "Your ticket is set for tomorrow."

_Just leave. Just please leave._

"What?' She stared at him.

What was there to be confused about? These were his seats.

"Your ticket," his voice held more bite than he meant it to. He inhaled. "You bought a ticket for _tomorrow's_ train." His fingers itched to peel off his coat, to feel the cool air against his skin. Better yet, to march straight back outside and never step back on this bloody train again.

Something hummed loudly to life in the train.

Was it starting? Were they going? He had to sit down.

"Now, if you'd please move-"

"Wait." She looked at him with pleading eyes. "You said you bought two tickets, right?" 

The train conductor was here. People were showing tickets. They were the only ones still standing in the car. His skin crawled.

"Could I just sit in one of the seats? I could even..."

He blinked. Fuzzy, why was his vision fuzzy? 

"...I have this family thing and my mother-"

"You're lack of responsibility is not my problem." He stepped aside, hoping with every bone inside that she would simply leave. Guilt crept up his spine. It wasn't her fault he was acting like a maniac right now. "I'm sorry." He swallowed. "I just...I won't give up my seat." The words sounded stuffy and bigoted. He cringed inwardly as an involuntary image of his aunt burned his mind.

"Are you kidding me?" She was laughing, but not the way one would laugh at a good joke. She reached up with a hand, pulling back a few curls from the front of her face. 

_Oh, dear._

"I won't bug you at all-I swear. Is it the money? Here." She began rifling through her bag. 

_What in the-what was she doing?_

His stomach twisted. "Stop it," he whispered hastily.

People were looking their way. His pulse thrummed a steady but fast rhythm he felt in the lobe of his ear. That had to be wrong, right? To feel one's pulse in their ear?

"What, are you too good for petty cash?" The sudden venomous tone startled him. 

He turned to see her sneering up at him.

"What? Why would you say that?"

She pointedly looked him from head to toe. Suddenly, anything seemed better than a train. He could walk in the rain and get pneumonia.

"What, was first class out of seats? Or did Daddy recently cut off your funds so now you have to suffer through third class like the rest of us?"

The air left his lungs as though Fitz had been kicked in the gut. 

He wouldn't break down. Not here. One train ride, one _terrible_ train ride but he was going to get through it. The universe was not going to win this round. 

* * *

Outside, Fitz mentally counted the tally. 

Universe: 3, Fitz: 0.

A sigh blew past his lips. This was just not his day. 

He turned to _her._ The reason he was out here while the train was rolling away. He felt bad, ashamed now that the burning frustration had cooled. He was almost sorry it was gone. It had been a nice distraction.

"Look," the exhaustion he felt leaked into his voice. "I'm sorry, alright? Let me call you a cab and I'll pay the fare." 

She shook her head slightly, curls bouncing. A thin smile spread her lips that read as anything but happy. "Sorry, but money can't fix everything for you."

His mouth parted slightly but he found the words in the back of his throat lacked the courage to climb their way to his tongue. 

She was already leaving.

The rain flicked his skin, _twat twat twat._

Fitz tried to take a shaky breath to reign it in but it was already too late. There, on the empty platform of the train station, with rain pounding into the earth, Fitz's shoulders shook with sobs released from a desperate and empty place inside him. 

* * *

His father's butler let him inside the house. He had left his keys somewhere, evidently. He just didn't know where. Figures. _When it rains it pours._

Fitz was shaking as he slid off his coat. He was glad for the excuse of the cold outside. His damp socks padded against the cool wood floor, taking him to where he knew she would be. His shoulders drooped as he heard the notes of the pianoforte leaking through the walls. He stopped at the open door.

Georgiana sat, long fingers dancing over the keys in a beautifully delicate piece of music. Somber. 

Involuntarily, he cast his gaze down to the box in his hands. The weight of it pressed into his hands. 

"Georgie."

The notes tumbled to a stop. 

Her wide eyes gazed at him, watery blue. So much like his father's. She stood but didn't move towards him, frozen at the sight of the box in his hands. 

He set it down on a side table though the second it left his grip it felt wrong. It looked wrong, sitting there out in the open on the table masquerading as though it were a simple decoration such as a vase or a painting. He turned away.

"How are you?" A stupid question, possibly the worst question he could have asked. 

His sister's lips twitched for a moment and her gaze flickered like candlelight. "I was-" she gestured to the piano abruptly. "-trying to occupy myself, I guess. I ended up playing the same song over again though." She wrung her hands.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I missed the train and it was just...a mess."

"It's okay." She kept peeking at the box. "How's everything with the hotels? Did you get Aunt Catherine to settle on compromise?"

"Not exactly," he blew out a breath, letting his posture sag. "I did a foolish thing, Georgie."

"Come on." She nudged his shoulder, pushing him toward the door. "Let's go talk about it while you make me hot cocoa."

For the first time that week, Fitz felt like he could actually smile.

**Author's Note:**

> 'sup. How you lovely chums doing?


End file.
